Burn in the Alpha Princess's Wrath novel Chapter 41

Chapter 41 The Claw Oath

Leslie’s POV – Lunar Pub, Second Floor

The terms of the Claw Oath were set.

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Finished

The entire VIP section on the second floor of the Lunar Pub had crowded in. The air was thick with the sharp tang of Alpha battle pheromones and the excited scent of spectators. This was a primal duel, one of pure honor.

Leiss, desperate to regain his pride, chose to go first.

He took a deep breath and slammed his left hand down on the table, palm flat.

Grabbing the moonstone dagger that gleamed with a cold silver light, his eyes flashed with cruelty as he began his performance.

Thud, thud, thud, thud!

The dagger blurred into a stream of silver shadows between his fingers, slicing through the air with a sharp, forceful wind.

His movements were fast, infused with the explosive power of a high–rank werewolf, but to my eyes, there was a trace of impatience in his aura—a rush to prove himself.

Sure enough, in the final pass, his wrist trembled ever so slightly, the tip of the blade grazing the wood with a shallow scratch.

He finished unharmed, but it wasn’t perfect.

Panting, he stabbed the dagger into the table with a self–satisfied smirk and looked at me with a challenge in his voice. “Your turn, Governor.”

I ignored him. I stepped forward slowly and placed my left hand flat on the solid oak tabletop.

My fingers were long, my skin pale–an image completely out of place in such a bloody, brutal

game.

I picked up the dagger and felt the cold of the moonstone seep into my palm.

It reminded me of something Lars told me when he taught me this game at age six: An Alpha’s will must be steadier than the sharpest blade.

I glanced at Leiss and smiled.

He probably thought I was just a singer with some connections.

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Chapter 41 The Claw Oath

Finished

He had no idea. Over the past three years, left alone in the empty halls of the Crimson Moon Pack, I’d picked up quite a few of the forgotten “games” of royalty–just to kill time.

The next second, my wrist moved.

If Leiss was a gust of wind, then I was silent lightning.

The silver gleam became a blur, a wild flurry dancing between my fingers. My face stayed blank. My eyes were cold, calm–like I was doing something as routine as tying a shoelace.

The entire bar fell silent, except for the rhythmic thud! thud! thud! thud! thud! of the dagger striking the wood–like the beat of death.

When I completed the final strike, stopping the blade precisely beside my pinky, the room froze.

My hand was unscathed.

And the table beneath it–each point between my fingers–was marked with surgical precision, as if measured with a ruler.

I didn’t just win. I crushed him. Humiliated him.

“You…!” Leiss’s face turned ghostly pale, his eyes filled with stunned horror.

“The wager, BataLeiss.” I rose to my full height and looked down at him like he was a lamb awaiting slaughter.

Astrid stepped out immediately, her voice booming across the room. “Fulfill your oath! Strip, destroy the hand you used to hold that knife, and crawl back to your den like the beaten dog you are!”

Under the scornful, mocking stares of every werewolf–and with Eric and Kirby watching with conflicted expressions–Leiss trembled, his face turning from white to green to a deep, choking purple.

With a roar of rage, he grabbed the dagger from the table–but in the end, he couldn’t bring himself to use it. Instead, he hurled it to the ground with all his strength.

The bar’s security–two werewolves built like bears–moved in at once, ripping the clothes from his body without mercy.

As Leiss howled in humiliation, I calmly pulled out my personal communicator and snapped a clear photo of his nearly naked, shame–ridden form.

“Leiss,” I said coldly, looking him in the eye. “Remember how you looked tonight. This is your disgrace and my insurance. If there’s a next time, this picture goes up on every Pack’s bulletin

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Chapter 41 The Claw Oath

board.”

With that, I put away the communicator and didn’t spare him another glance.

This farce was over.

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